The Sweetheart (Kriss POV)
by jessicatli
Summary: Kriss Ambers' POV of the ending of the One, including Kriss's thoughts, feelings, and reactions after seeing America with Aspen, and Maxon almost choosing her over America.
1. Confrontation

America was never fit to be a real princess. I always knew I was born to be Queen. No, more importantly, I was born to be Maxon's wife. Maxon was my joy, my life, my everything. I couldn't imagine living a life without him. I didn't mean to get so attached to him, in the case that I wasn't going to become princess. But I just couldn't help myself. You can't stop a girl from falling in love! It was true that I entered this competition as a Northern rebel. But the only thing I'm fighting for now is Maxon's love. And today, my dear Maxon was going to finally select the next princess of Iléa.

I felt tingly and nervous all over. Sure, America was exciting and fiery and an amazing girl. But it was obvious that I was meant to be Queen: I was as gentle and poised as Queen Amberly, and I would be a smart ruler, due to having professors as parents. Surely Maxon knew that.

I knew Maxon liked me. Maybe he even loved me. I couldn't be sure. I knew that I loved him with all my heart. But I couldn't help feeling jealous every time I saw him gazing over at America, something in his eyes reserved only for her. What did he see in her that made her better than me? America was always making mistakes and acting so, so rash. Iléa needed security in a time like this. I made myself believe that Maxon would choose me. After all, my father always told me: If you believe in something enough, it is bound to happen. My life would be perfect. Maxon, the king, queen, and all of Iléa would love me. Oh how I wished Maxon would love me even one tenth the amount I loved him. That was enough. All I wanted was to be his and his only. And I wasn't going to let some indecisive red-haired five getting in my way. I was the lady. I was the sweetheart. I deserved this.

I sat upright on my bed, patiently waiting for Maxon's arrival, meanwhile thinking about our future names together. _King Maxon Schreave and Queen Kriss Schreave._ The mantra repeated itself in my head a thousand times.

It had almost lulled me to a quiet sleep when a knock at the door shook me awake. He was here! This was the moment I had been waiting for my entire life. My heart and entire body ached in desire for him to propose. I shook away any negative thoughts that had plagued my mind before and quickly put on a calm, happy yet expectant face.

I opened the door and smiled sweetly. Masons expression was hard to read but I could tell he was happy. I desperately hoped that he was happy for us and not for his relationship with America. He leaned against the doorway and ran his hand through his hair thinking. Finally, he spoke.

"It would be best that I talk to you and America together about my decision."

I tried to hide my disappointment. What if he already talked to America and proposed to her in advance? Surely he was coming so that he could tell me that I was going home standing next to his new wife. I searched his face desperately, but to no avail.

Hesitantly, I took his arm and took the few steps from my room to my fate. Each step seemed like eternity. Finally, before we turned the corner to America's room, I couldn't stand this chilling silence anymore.

"I love you!" I looked up into his eyes, distraught.

He was taken back by surprise. Maxon slowly took a breath and regained his composure before saying quietly,

"I know, Kriss."

I searched his eyes for any kind of emotion, affection, love. I gazed into his eyes. This couldn't be happening. I saw my life disappearing through my eyes.

"Maxon," I whispered, shaking. I felt faint.

"I'm sorry, Kriss."

This couldn't be happening. I blinked slowly as my brain broke down and I realized the truth. This couldn't be happening. Suddenly, I felt a surge of emotion travel through my body. Hatred. Hatred for America, hatred for God, hatred for everything that had ruined me. It was this powerful feeling that forced me to blink in any tears and stand up straight, and act like the princess I was destined to be, the loving wife I was meant to be.

Slowly but surely, we turned the corner and heard voices from outside America's room. And then I felt Maxon's body become tense next to mine. I looked up and saw America. Not only America, but America's body, tightly pressed against a handsome guard's I had seen around the palace. America backed away from the guard, but it was too late. My mouth dropped open, and I quickly covered it with my hand. My mind was skipping at the speed of light, jumping to so many different conclusions. Finally, I comprehended what was happening in front of me. America was breaking Iléan law. I realized that I would probably have a chance at being Maxon's wife now. But I didn't feel happy. The hatred that had rampaged my body before slowly disappeared. Now, I only felt pity. I remembered poor Marlee. America would be punished. I remembered our friendship. I knew I was getting Maxon, but I was also probably losing a friend.

I heard Maxon speak coolly next to me, "I found Kriss in the hall and was coming to explain my choice to you both before the cameras showed up, but it seems we have other things to discuss."

"Kriss, would you please return to your room? Quietly?" Maxon instructed.

I curtsied and quickly walked away, not wanting to know what fate awaited America and her forbidden lover.

Back in my room, I thought to myself. How could she be so foolish, especially after what happened to Marlee and Officer Woodwork? And even on the last day of the entire competition. Yet I couldn't help feeling a bit smug. Finally! America's true nature, exposed to the public, to Maxon. All that time he couldn't see all her faults and finally, she has broken the most important thing of all: Maxon's trust.

Maxon deserved someone better than America. Someone who truly loved him would never even think of cheating.


	2. Rebel Attack

I couldn't help feeling a bit smug.

Maxon deserved someone better. Someone who truly loved him would never think of cheating, like me. America not only broke Illéan law, but she also proved to everyone the truth about herself. She didn't value Maxon enough—she flirted with worthless guards behind his back! She was just the next boy-playing girl, like Marlee had been. These girls just did not have their priorities straight. I mean, oh well for them. It just shows that the girl who does the right thing is the perfect fit for queen. Who doesn't love the sweetheart?

Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. Right now, Maxon and I sat in the Great Room, next to each other, waiting for the procession to begin. It was obvious that his decision was me. He wasn't even looking in Americas direction, which was sad, for her.

Yet... even though he kept whispering sweet nothings to me, I couldn't shake off the thought that innocent Maxon would have unknowingly chosen America in a blink of an eye, if she hadn't been caught. I kept thinking his original decision was America and not me.

He seemed distracted even though he was paying full attention to me. On the other side of Maxon, America was pleading, looking on the verge of tears. Maxon dealt with that. I felt sorry, but really it was her fault for breaking the law. And Maxon was even letting her off easy, unlike Marlee. He is so generous to everyone. We would make a great royal couple.

I saw America looking at the guards in the room. Typical. Checking out other boys even on her last day at the palace. I followed her gaze to the wall. Yet there was something different. Out of nowhere, a guard stepped out and walked up to Celeste. He held a gun to the back of her head and pulled the trigger. Suddenly, the room was filled with gunshots as different guards stepped out and began firing into the once peaceful event.

Oh my goodness.

Blood. Blood was everywhere. I couldn't believe it. The rebels didn't warn me of this attack. What were they doing? Didn't they know I was on their side? They were _ruining_ my celebration! This wasn't supposed to happen. I screamed in fear. I barely heard as Maxon told me to get on the floor.

My ears were ringing. It was so loud I couldn't hear my thoughts. So I started crying. For myself, for Maxon, for America. For the rebel force and for the monarchy. I kept crying until I blocked everything out of my mind.

Suddenly a guard got ahold of me. I guess it was my time to die. I prayed for the safety of Maxon and my family, and let myself go.

I waited for the bullet, but it didn't come. Instead, this guard was shaking my shoulders and slapping my face. How did they train these rebels? It's much more effective to just shoot a person rather than slapping them to death! I looked into this guard's eyes, and I noticed that this guard looked familiar. It was America's guard! I realized he wasn't a rebel—he was trying to help me. I followed him out of the room and into the hallway, shielding my head as I went. He led me to a safe room and I collapsed, exhausted, onto the floor.

"Thank you," I whispered with genuine gratitude as the guard shut the door.

...

The last thing I thought of before losing consciousness was Maxon. _My_ Maxon. I had left him in the Great Room.


End file.
